


Lips Like Sugar

by panarchy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Covergirl Cosmetics, Easy Breezy Beautiful Kylo Girl, F/M, Fellatio, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, lipstick kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:09:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5568520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panarchy/pseuds/panarchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey is taking her sure, sweet time in the shower. Kylo Ren is incredibly impatient.<br/>Sweet smut about lipstick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips Like Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> This is smut about the limited edition Star Wars Colorlicious Lipstick Covergirl makeup collection. 
> 
> I have no regrets.
> 
> The shade in question is a neat mix of **Dark Purple 50** and **Red 30** , because a girl like Rey experiments with both collections.
> 
> Pucker up and go, I guess. 
> 
> Title from the indomitable _Echo & the Bunnymen._

Steam creeps under the jamb of the wash room door, fogging the holopad screen Kylo Ren had been studying, his nose smudging the clouded diagrams. The moisture makes his face itch, as he scowls towards the opposite end of the room. The door light taunted, as if to announce that, _no_ , the shower was quite unlikely to be unoccupied any time soon.

 _‘Merciless._ ’ That was the word for it. That girl was simply merciless.

He gripped the bridge of his nose, heeding growing frustration as Rey’s delicate voice wandered in with the condensation. Usually, he was not one to deny her the indulgence of water – languid waves that slicked her body and slackened her worried back. The awe on her face alone at the mere _spectacle_ of it was usually worth his delay, in such sharp contrast to the arid, dusty lack that was Jakku. But today was different. There were breakfasts and plans to be made, and the sweat from that morning’s sparring session still clung to his shoulders.

“If her goal is to drown, then she may as well share.” He thought darkly, rising stiff, skulking towards the wash room. Frowning, he raised his fist for a swift knock, pausing as her singing turned instead to satisfied hums.

“Rey? Are you finished yet?”

The humming continued, un-bothered. He groaned.

“I don’t see why we can’t share. It’s not as if we’ve never seen each other naked before…” the humming halted, and Kylo swore he could hear the jedi’s face tighten into a smirk. An audible smack, light and almost… _wet_ …made his ears tingle with curiosity.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to try something new.” Rey answered, the hiss of the sliding door enveloping Kylo in vapor. He stepped back, hands flapping as he struggled to decipher her face.

“Oh!” he mumbled, her flight of fancy evident in the smirk of her lips. Those darkly moistened, pigmented _lips_.

Rey’s eyes flashed. “Do you like it? I picked up a few things from the shops on Coruscant. Took me a few tries, but I always wondered how I would measure up to those ladies in the Senate.”

Kylo choked back his retort, taking in her made-up face with intensity. She looked – different, but not in in way that felt ridiculous or showy. The fierce arch of her brows were dusted with a golden shimmer, as her tawny eyes practically popped against the smoky dark smudges ensconcing her lashes. The dusting of windblown freckles across her cheeks and necks remained, he noted with satisfaction, but they appeared more even somehow, as if the creamy-sandy nature of her skin was toned delicately towards her now perpetually blushing cheeks. It was pretty, magnifying her natural features, though he imagined complex lines and exotic colors wouldn’t be too amiss either, if she ever tried them. Yet, his gaze remained transfixed on that one, central feature.

“Your _lips_ …” he swallowed.

 

He had never pondered Rey’s lips so explicitly before. They were a function of her power, and grace, tight-firm as she concentrated in training. He recalled the pleasing way they framed her disarming smiles, pinching in the corners as her teeth flashed with the laughter held tight in each quirk and grin. But never had Kylo felt so focused as he did now, on the feverish possibility of the expertly puckered face before him. She had layered them in a dark rouge, the pigment soft and wet, like dewy petals on some rain-soaked planet. The normally pink, innocent skin looked positively sinful now, as the dark contrast of her hooded eyes and that wine-stained mouth echoed the fiery slash of his saber, of rushing blood. He stepped forward, needing suddenly to touch them, to _feel_ …

“Not so fast.” Rey leaned into his orbit, hand catching his wrist tightly. He dropped his arm limply to side, staring down as she arched back and forth on the tips of her toes. Tantalizingly close. He desperately wanted to bridge the inches between his mouth and that smear of hers, but she had a single finger at his lips. Tapping three times, smiling. Droplets trailed down the edge of her elbows, the nude dips at the small of her back. The lipstick gleamed in the stretch of her mouth.

“No kissing. Not yet, at least. I want to make this last a little.” Her eyes darkened slightly, clever fingers pressing to his chest, his temple, his shoulders. ‘ _This_ ’ he mused, so slight he doubt she heard it under his breath, his hands trembling at the joints.

He muttered again, slack against her ministrations. “ _You dark devil of a girl._ ”

And then he was on her waist, rough and tense, clenching the point of her hip as she ghosted the hint of her lips down his neck. The tip of her nose tickled the bottom of his ribs, as Rey tugged his shirt up, staring up mischievously as she darted out her tongue for a sweet, sweet second. He hissed, her cooing lips blowing cool air upon the point of contact, as they pushed backwards together. Step-by-step, until they were at the couch, his hands pulling her up to his lap eye-to-eye, legs folded atop his thighs.

“If I can’t kiss your lips…” Kylo gasped, Rey making quick work on his shirt. She avoided his head with deft motions, as his mouth found the curve of her ear by accident, skirted her freckled shoulders. “May I at least kiss your skin?”

A quick nip of her neck, soothed to a lovely shade of red not too different from her lipstick, made Rey squirm. She had moved to a straddle, palms against his chest for leverage as she teased his nipple, the faint shadow of russet tattooed to his skin. The hard, rough bulge of fabric beneath her edged impatiently at the curve of her bum, as Kylo nearly whined in protest. Rey stilled.

“You must have patience.” She murmured against his cheek, climbing down softly to rest between his outstretched legs. His hand in her loose, damp hair tightened. She rested her cheek against his thigh, looking up his long frame expectantly, a hand perilously close to his crotch.

“I could feel your annoyance, earlier, you know.” Her voice was low, and measured. She cupped him lightly. “It makes the air electric, like you’re about to combust.” The careful unbuttoning of his hewn pants made his breath constrict.

“You need to learn grace, Kylo Ren.” She was pulling his pants down now, a kick to the left and they were gone. She leaned closer. “Virtue brings rewards. But all you seek is…”

“ _Punishment?_ ” His voice was strained. Was she using the force to keep his hands at his lap?

“I was going to say trouble, but sure, let’s be melodramatic.” She grinned. “ _Misery._ ” The sounds slur, as she bit her tender bottom lip so purposefully, his cock stirred painfully against his belly. She hovered over the head and stares up through darkened lashes. He closed his eyes. Fingers twitch.

“Look at me.” Her voice pleaded through his mind, no, _demands_. He blinks. Slowly, gods, so slowly, she takes him into her mouth, slicking down his cock, never breaking his gaze. The lipstick smears like cobwebs down the shaft, as she rises with a firm pop of the cheeks. The sight of this crimson mark peppering his cock, mingling with pebbles of pre-cum, is enough to push Kylo over the edge. But Rey is steady now, pumping him faster with a firm hand cradling the balls beneath. As the pace increases, the pressure against his arms lessens, and he encouraged her with a palm tangled in her drying locks. She mumbles against his skin, as she slows slightly to take him that much deeper, his groan nearly drowning out her panting as she surfaces for air. Rey has never taken him so deep before, as he soothed her shoulders for the task at hand, slight gagging evident in the impression of her throat struggling to swallow him whole.

A slicking subtle noise breaks through the cadence of slurping. Kylo blushed.

“You’re touching yourself.”

Rey looks inquisitive, one arm steadied by his knee, the other hot and desperate between her thighs, clinging for purchase. The growing heat in his core builds to near pain at this point, and he pulled her head back slightly at the root of her hair, clenched in a tight bun in his fists. She mewls in protest, lips smeared and smutty.

“I can’t…” and it’s just too much, he’s cut off, collapsing to the floor and drawing her in, desperately biting against her sweet mouth. The kiss is hard, suckling off the last bits of pigment, capturing her murmurs in neat bites against her swollen lips. He can taste himself on her tongue, musk and sweat and skin, and it’s invigorating. She’s at his throat now, suckling bruises as they wrestle for position, her body sopping-straight against his, as he arched his back involuntarily at the harsh nip by his ear.

“Kylo…” Rey moans now, louder, rubbing her cleft sinfully against his throbbing length now, whetting it in a wanton pantomime of frottage. He’s so close now, he can’t even bear to slip in, coming lean and hot in her small hands, dripping down her thighs, the marks of red still daubed upon him like a new scar. Rey feels this release, and presses lower, rubbing herself purposefully against the rise of his leg, ass pulled high as she clings to his ears, his face for leverage. His eyes are open and needy as the orgasm swells, slippery and puddling around his body. They lie together limply, steam dissipating back to nothingness, the washroom long forgotten.

 

Kylo gathers his strength, and pulled Rey tighter, her face resting length wise from his chin. The edges of her mascara-tinted lashes tickled at his face and the smoky powder has smeared in sweaty rivulets against her lidded eyes. He runs a thumb across her brow and eyelids, gently fixing them back to their former confines, freckles daring to speckle the rosy scrunching of her nose. She sighs, content.

“All that preparation, and it didn’t even last past breakfast.” Rey whispers, awarded with a low chuckle at his throat. “Perhaps it’s unbecoming for a Jedi, makeup. Not humble.”

Kylo growls and pulls her closer, teasing small kisses to her hair line.

“No such thing.” He mutters. “Besides..” his smile is dangerous now, heart thudding at the prospect of Rey in more daring shades and pigments, ruined deliciously by desire and sweat. “All virtues need something sinful for balance.”

Rey smirks. “Fine. But next time, we’re painting your face. Hair like yours” she tugs at a lock and draws him close for a kiss “deserves a little drama.”

Kylo rolls his eyes. _Merciless._


End file.
